


deep clean

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguing, Borderline Personality Disorder, F/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: Dolley pauses and tries to take a deep breath; it does nothing to calm her down.





	deep clean

The lights in the kitchen of Dolley and James’ apartment don’t hum.

The lights in his apartment didn’t hum, either, but Dolley is so used to listening to the background noise while she’s cleaning, the silence is upsetting her. She’s not sure what to do to fill it, though. She knows better than to sing; it’s not a good sound when she sings, and she doesn’t want that to be the first thing James hears when he gets home. She could hum, but making the sound herself seems weird; she would rather there was something going on in the background. She could turn the TV on, but James is going to be home soon and she doesn’t want him to come into the living room and see the TV on and her not watching it.

Dolley’s gotten way too caught up cleaning the kitchen; she hasn’t deep cleaned any of the apartment since they moved in. She deep cleaned her old apartment just about every weekend, which is why after a while it never took her very long. This apartment had people living in it before them, not too long ago, and they never deep cleaned; Dolley can tell. It’s taken her several hours to do just the kitchen when she was hoping to get to the entire apartment. It was mostly the oven that gave her trouble; she doubts it’s ever been cleaned before. Nevertheless, it’s clean now, and she’s almost done with the counters.

She hears James come in; Dolley  _ wishes  _ this hadn’t taken her so long, she could’ve been making dinner. She pauses for a moment, mostly because her arm is tired; she switches hands and starts again. James appears in the doorway to the kitchen; he watches her for a moment, then asks, “What are you doing?”

Dolley doesn’t look at him, “I’m cleaning the kitchen.”

James hesitates, “Did you make something..?”

“No.” Dolley tells him.

“Then why are you cleaning the kitchen?” James asks, “It was clean.”

“I mean, it was clean, but it wasn’t  _ deep  _ clean.” Dolley says, “I cleaned the oven.”

“Why?” James asks.

“I was off work today.” Dolley says, “The owner of the publishing company is Jewish so we get all the Jewish holidays off - ”

“I know, Dolley.” James says gently, “You already told me. I’m asking why you spent your day off cleaning the oven.”

“It needed to be cleaned.” Dolley says simply.

“I don’t think it did.” James says.

“That oven has never been cleaned, James.” Dolley tells him, “I was doing it a favor.”

“Why did you spend your day off cleaning the kitchen?” James asks.

“It needed to be cleaned.” Dolley insists, “I was going to do the rest of the apartment, but the kitchen took most of the day. I guess I can do the rest this weekend.”

“The apartment doesn’t need to be cleaned.” James says, “We literally just moved in, we haven’t had time to make a mess yet.”

“I’m going to  _ deep  _ clean it.” Dolley insists, “Like, get every little piece of grime out of all the corners and crevices stuff. You can’t see it now, but it’ll make a difference.”

“You couldn’t have spent your day off doing something you enjoyed?” James asks.

“I did.” Dolley says, “Go look how clean the oven is.”

“I don’t care about the oven.” James says; Dolley looks back down at the counter and keeps scrubbing it. He watches her for a moment longer and then leaves to go change.

Dolley finishes the counter and then immediately decides to start making dinner, since James seems to be mad at her. She’s not sure what she did wrong; she cleaned the kitchen. That should be considered a good thing.

When James comes back, he stops in the doorway and sighs, “What are you doing?”

Dolley pauses, “Making dinner?”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because… we need food to live?” Dolley says slowly.

“You just spent all day cleaning the kitchen.” James says.

“And now I’m making dinner.” Dolley says.

“Are you happy?” James asks suddenly.

Dolley looks at him, frowning, “What?”

“Are you happy?” James repeats, “Did cleaning the oven make you happy? Or did you just do it because you thought it would make me happy?”

Dolley hesitates, “I… I have no reason  _ not  _ to be happy.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” James says, “Did you clean the oven because having a clean oven makes you happy? Or because cleaning makes you happy? Or did you do it because you thought it would make  _ me  _ happy? Are you making dinner because cooking brings you joy? Or are you doing it because you think I’m mad at you?”

Dolley stares at him, “You are mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you.” James says, “I’m  _ frustrated - ” _

“That’s the same thing.” Dolley says immediately.

“Why do you spend all your time doing things for other people’s benefit?” James asks, “When you’re not working you’re cleaning or you’re cooking or you’re doing something to try to make me happy or Martha happy or Thomas happy. The only thing you do for yourself is sleep.”

Dolley swallows, “I like doing those things.”

“You don’t have a hobby.” James says, “You spent your whole day cleaning the kitchen.”

“Hobbies cost money.” Dolley says.

“You have money to spend on a hobby!” James says, “But you won’t do that. Why?”

“I don’t need a hobby.” Dolley says.

“That would be fine,” James says, “That would be fine if you did, like,  _ anything  _ with your free time, like watch TV or go on Twitter or  _ something.  _ But all you do is work and sleep and clean and cook and I don’t even think those things make you happy.”

“I am happy.” Dolley says immediately.

“Name one thing that makes you happy.” James says.

“You makes me happy.” Dolley insists.

“I’m another person.” James says, “If I am the only thing in your life that brings you joy, that’s unhealthy. What’s something that made you happy  _ before  _ you met me.”

“Martha.” Dolley says.

“Something that isn’t a person.” James insists, “What’s something you could do completely alone and it would make you happy, even if nobody else saw what you did?”

“I like cooking.” Dolley says.

“Do you like the process of making a meal?” James asks, “Do you like creating it? Do you like eating it? Or do you just like when you cook for someone else and they compliment you?”

Dolley hesitates for too long, so James repeats his original question, “Are you happy?”

“I have no reason not to be.” Dolley says.

“Neither do I.” James says, “But I still have depression.”

“That’s - ”

“How is it different?” James interrupts her before she can say it, “How are me having depression and you having BPD different?”

Dolley looks down; she doesn’t respond, so finally James says, “I really think you should try going to therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy.” She says quickly.

“You need  _ something.”  _ James insists, “Doll, when I got diagnosed with depression, I went to therapy and I got put on medication and now I  _ manage it  _ so that it doesn’t control my entire life. You’re letting this control your entire life.”

“No, I’m not.” Dolley says.

“You spent all day cleaning the kitchen because you were hoping I would come home and tell you that you did a good job.” James says, “Didn’t you?”

Dolley won’t look at him, “I don’t need therapy.”

“Didn’t you?” James repeats.

“You could’ve just told me the oven looks nice and we could’ve avoided arguing about my fucking mental health!” Dolley exclaims.

“I don’t care about the oven!” James argues, “I care about  _ you!  _ I want you to do things that make  _ you  _ happy! Not live your life to make everyone else’s easier!”

“Making people’s lives easier does make me happy!” Dolley says.

“It also exhausts you!” James insists, “It stresses you out! It turns you into someone who can’t  _ do  _ anything for yourself because you’re scared of inconveniencing people around you!”

“I  _ shouldn’t  _ do things that inconvenience people!” Dolley argues, “If what I want makes someone else’s life harder, why should I have it? That’s selfish!”

“Sometimes you’re allowed to be selfish!” James says.

“In what fucking situation am I allowed to be selfish?!” Dolley asks loudly, her voice shrill, “Tell me! Because I would love to know!”

“You could start by trying to manage your mental health! Actually trying to do something and get better instead of just ignoring it!” James says.

“Ignoring it works!” Dolley argues, “I was fine until you brought it up!”

“Then that means it’s not fine!” James snaps, “If we have to handle it like glass to make sure it doesn’t become a problem, then it’s already a problem!”

“If I go to therapy, whatever therapist I sit down with is just going to tell me I’m being ridiculous.” Dolley says.

“You’ve  _ literally  _ been diagnosed with BPD.” James says, “That alone proves you’re not being ridiculous.”

“My  _ problems  _ are ridiculous!” Dolley exclaims, “And they’re just going to tell me that! And then I’m going to feel terrible for wasting their time!”

“Your problems are not ridiculous.” James tries to say, but Dolley cuts him off.

“Everything I’ve ever cried over has been ridiculous.” She insists, “I threw a fit when I was twelve because my parents took a stuffed animal away from me! I used to cry in college because when I would get employee of the month at work I would get a free meal and the only thing I could get myself to ask for were eggs because they were the cheapest thing on the menu! I don’t even  _ like _ eggs! I cried when we moved in together because I was embarrassed by the amount of clothes I had! I cried over having too many clothes! There are hundreds of homeless people in New York, and I cried over having  _ too many  _ clothes!”

James takes a deep breath, “I have cried several times because I couldn’t get a jar open.” he tells her calmly, “I also cried a couple weeks ago because I dropped my phone in the space between the wall and my bed. Don’t even  _ try  _ to tell me those are different circumstances, because we’re both talking about things that are on the same level.”

Dolley doesn’t respond to him so James says, “At the very least, you should be able to talk to  _ me.” _

“I can’t.” Dolley says immediately.

“Why not?” James asks.

“Because it’s  _ annoying _ .” Dolley snaps.

“Is it annoying when I have to talk to you about my stuff?” James asks.

“No!” Dolley says.

“Then how - ”

“It’s different because I’m twenty-nine years of bottled up shit and you’ve been trying to manage yours since you were in college!” Dolley snaps, “It’s different because I’ve  _ never  _ talked to  _ anyone  _ about my shit and you can just be like,  _ I’m having a bad day today, so I’m gonna do this and that _ . I have a bad day  _ every _ day but I’ve only ever been punished for giving less than 110% so I don’t have  _ time  _ to stop and deal with it!”

She pauses and tries to take a deep breath; it does nothing to calm her down. She’s practically shaking. “I’m like a carry on compartment on an airplane, okay? I’m meant to store baggage, not deposit of it.”

James stares at her for a moment, “Well, I think the carry on compartment is full and needs to be emptied.”

“Think again! I am a bottomless pit!” Dolley declares.

“Clearly you’re not, because you’re having a breakdown!” James snaps.

“I wouldn’t be having a breakdown if you had just told me the oven looks nice!” Dolley argues.

“I want you to be happy!” James tells her.

“I am happy!” Dolley shouts, then immediately bursts into tears.

James waits for a moment, and then he moves towards her slowly. He tries to take what she’s still holding onto out of her hand, but she recoils.

“I need to make dinner.” She says, even though she’s sobbing.

“No, you  _ don’t.”  _ James insists, and when she recoils from him the second time he tries to take what she’s holding, he grabs her wrist firmly and pries it out of her grip.

“Dolley.” James says seriously, setting it down on the counter, “I love you very much, don’t think me doing that means I don’t. On the contrary, I’m telling you this  _ because  _ of how much I love you.”

He holds both of her arms by her wrists and makes her look straight at him, which isn’t hard because she was looking down anyways. “I know you’ve probably never been told this because you’ve never talked about your problems before, but you  _ need  _ to get your shit together.”

Dolley makes a miserable noise and tries to look away from him, but he squeezes her wrists lightly and she looks back at him without having to be told to. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s  _ not  _ your fault you’re mentally ill.” James tells her, “But it  _ is  _ your fault for not even making an effort to manage it. I love you very much, but you’re going to end up driving yourself insane if you keep living like this.”

“I’m fine.” Dolley tries to tell him.

“You are  _ not  _ fine.” James says sharply, “You spent all day cleaning the kitchen, that didn’t need to be cleaned, and now you’re  _ sobbing  _ because I’m not impressed over the clean oven and I suggested you need to go to therapy.”

Dolley shakes her head, “You’re proving my point.” she says, “That’s another thing on the list of stupid things I cry over.”

“You’re crying over it because your mental health is a disaster.” James insists, “You wouldn’t be this fragile if you  _ talked  _ about your problems.”

Dolley shakes her head again, and James sighs, “Doll, the last thing on Earth I want to do is guilt you into taking care of yourself, but I hope you understand we  _ live together  _ now.”

Dolley looks at him blankly, and he continues, “We sleep in the same bed, we’re going to spend most of our free time in the same space, and if  _ this  _ is what you spend all your spare time doing because you think it’s going to make me… happy? Or something? It’s going to start driving  _ me _ insane, too.”

Dolley immediately looks horrified, so James switches from holding her wrists to holding her hands, “Doll,” he says, “Don’t even start apologizing, I know you’re not  _ trying  _ to drive me insane. It’s like how when I make jokes about wanting to die, I’m not  _ trying  _ to make you upset, it’s just reflexive.  _ This,”  _ he references to her vaguely, while he’s still holding her hands, “Is just reflexive. It’s only going to make me upset if you refuse to do anything about it.”

Dolley looks down at her feet, and after a moment, she says, “You’re still wearing your shoes.”

James looks down; he is, in fact, still wearing his shoes, “Yeah.”

She swallows, but she doesn’t say anything, and James frowns. He can tell what she’s thinking, but he knows she’s not going to say it unless he pushes it, “Why? Does that bother you?”

“No.” Dolley says immediately.

“You’re lying.” James says, and she looks startled; he continues, “You  _ hate  _ when people wear shoes in your apartment.”

“This isn’t my apartment.” Dolley says quietly, “It’s our apartment. You can wear your shoes inside if you want to.”

“But you hate it.” James insists.

Dolley hesitates, then she says, “It just means I’m going to have to vacuum more.” she glances at his face for a second then looks back at the floor, “Is what my mom used to say.” she adds.

Her head jerks up, “Am I my mom?” she asks, and she looks horrified.

“No, you’re not your mom.” James tells her gently, “Although I really can’t tell if you like being in a clean environment or if you’re just extremely dedicated to doing every single household chore that exists.”

Dolley shrugs, and James rolls his eyes, “You know you don’t exist to make people’s lives easier, right?”

Dolley shrugs again, “That’s kind of how it feels.”

James frowns, “Do I make you feel like that?”

Dolley looks at him worriedly, then looks away, “I don’t think you do it on purpose.”

James’ frown deepens, so she elaborates, “It’s kind of just hard to feel like that’s  _ not _ why I exist when I got in trouble for not being easy to deal with when I was a kid. And when I keep getting cheated on. And when everyone at work gets me to do the hard work they don’t want to do and then takes credit for it.”

James is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Please consider therapy.”

Dolley doesn’t respond, but finally she nods her head a little bit, and James is satisfied with that.

She looks behind him, at what she has sitting out on the counter to make dinner; James follows her gaze and frowns again, “You’re not making dinner.”

“But - ” Dolley tries to protest.

“ _ No.”  _ James says firmly, “You’re not making dinner, you spent all day cleaning.”

“I can make dinner.” Dolley says weakly.

“Please go sit down.” James says, “Go watch something on TV.”

Dolley is quiet for a moment, and then she says, “I don’t know how to use the remote.”

James does his best to keep himself from laughing, “Do you want me to show you?”

Dolley shakes her head, “I’ll just go… sit on the couch.”

James makes a face, “Doing what?”

“Nothing.” Dolley says simply, like it’s obvious.

“Please go find a way to entertain yourself.” James says.

“I could entertain myself by making dinner.” Dolley suggests.

“You’re not going to make me happy by making dinner.” James tells her, which makes her wilt, so he adds, “You can make me happy by going and doing something leisurely.”

Dolley glances at the doorway to the living room, “Like what?”

James sighs, then he says, “Go get my laptop and research therapists.”

Dolley looks like she wants to protest, but James squeezes her hands again, so she lets go and starts walking into the living room.

“Hey,” he says as she leaves, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Dolley says quietly.


End file.
